You Lie
by R for Rebel
Summary: Song ficlets and one shots of Jarlos goodness. T for language.
1. You Lie

_**You Lie – The Band Perry**_

The tall teen ran after him.

"Carlos!"

"No, James. NO."

"But-"

The small Latino boy turned around suddenly, making James stop mere inches from his face. He gave the pretty boy in front of him a glare.

"You lie like a rug, James. I _know_ you ate my last FreezPop!"

James put on his best pair of puppy dog eyes and his natural smile. "Sorry, babe. I'll buy you another one. Right now, even." He fished his wallet out of his back pocket and waved it in front of the other teens face.

Carlos contemplated this.

"…It better be raspberry, or you can just move all your skinny jeans out of the closet now." He said haughtily as they walked towards the snack bar.

_**Big Night – Big Time Rush**_

"Come on, wake up!"

"Urgh?"

Carlos rolled over on his fleece sheets to groggily stare at his roommate.

"You're gonna miss it, Carlos!" James got up on the Latino's bed and started jumping up and down.

"_Madre de Dios_…_por favor_ _le hacen detener!_" Carlos grumbled into his pillow.

"Holy Mother Mary- *jump* -in heaven- *jump* -cannot- *jump* -make me- *jump* -stop.*jump*" He stopped after about another minute and flopped down on top of the small boy. Carlos, waking up entirely, flipped over with the surprise, sending James flailing to the floor.

"…Ouch."

"…_Lo siento_." Carlos stared at James for a moment. "…When did you start brushing up on your _español_?

James blushed. "_No importa. Se va a mover o no?_" The pretty boy asked, his tongue rolling with the effort to pronounce the words just right.

The small Latino boy was shocked. "_Si, un minuto_…"

Carlos grabbed a pair of crumpled jeans from the floor and started to put them on. "So_...Estoy hasta a las dos de la mañana porque...?_" He smirked at him.

James scratched his head and gave a sheepish smile. "I couldn't fall asleep, so I clicked on the news. They said there's supposed to be a comet shower tonight, and…I don't know, I thought maybe you'd want to watch it…with me."

Carlos was even more impressed. So James _had_ been listening to his astronomy essay. The Latino thought it was sweet he remembered. "I didn't think you'd actually be able to understand…Nevermind. _El techno_?"

James gave his toothy grin. "_Si._"

_**Are You Gonna Kiss Me or Not – Thompson Square**_

"Unicorns, dude, common. Their BA."

"Nuh-uh, badgers, all the way."

There was one tense moment, and then the two broke into hysterical laughter.

"How about we settle for narwhals and call it a night?" James asked, shifting around on the hard roof tiles of Carlos' house

"Deal." Carlos grinned. He looked up into the clear Minnesota night. A lone car putted slowly down the empty street below. Out the window wailed a few lines of a country song-

…_mama's roof, talkin' about everything under the moon_

_The smell of honeysuckle and your perfume_

_All I could think about was my next move_

_Oh, but you were so shy, and so was I_

_That's why it was so hard to believe_

_When you smiled and said to me-_

"Are you gonna kiss me or not?" James sung wistfully, staring up into the pucker-faced moon. "We gonna do this or what? I think you know I like you a lot, but you're about to miss your shot…"

Carlos liked the husky tone in James' voice. Country was his favorite genre right after pop, and hearing Thompson Square pour out from James' mouth was…kinda mind blowing.

"So?"

The Latino looked at him, startled. "What?"

"Are you gonna kiss me?"

The tall teen looked at the smaller one next to him expectantly. Carlos just gapped.

"Well-"

"You're about to miss your shot."

Carlos couldn't help but smile at how corny this was. "Dude, don't play around-"

"Don't be so shy!" James teased as he slid right up next to Carlos, a giant grin plastered to his face.

"This is hard to believe…" Carlos relented, playing along.

"I don't see how…I _think_ you know I like you a lot."

It sounded completely different when James just said it like that. "G-guess _you're_ not so shy after all."

James shrugged. "The smell of honeysuckle…I'm allergic to honeysuckle," he said thoughtfully, "Gives me fake courage and makes me say crazy shit." He gave the most adorable lopsided grin.

"What about perfume?"

"Smells all the same to me."

Carlos leaned in, making James feel intimidated for the first time this whole evening.

"Do you mean what you said then?" Carlos whispered.

James face blanched, and then he said, a bit breathless, "Do you _see_ any honeysuckle or a bottle of perfume just lying around?"

Their lips met in a sloppy kiss, their teeth clicking together on impact. James' lips tasted like the spices Mrs. Garcia had used in their dinner, and Carlos thought it was fantastic.

They had been 'mackin' out' for perhaps thirty minutes on Carlos' roof, thoroughly screwing up James' 'man mane', when the taller of the two finally broke away, the pretty boy leaning his forehead against the Latino's. Carlos shuttered at the intimacy, and his mouth went on auto-pilot.

"You are so freaking beautiful, James. And I think I like you too. A lot. You are, like, the greatest, funniest person I've ever known."

James placed both hands on either side of Carlos' head and pulled him forward, the Latino's further praises dying on his lips as James sealed them together.

"…I…you are so…thank you." James stuttered out shakily, eyes closed when he pulled away again. "Thank you so much, Carlos. I…don't think you know how much that and _you_ mean to me."

"You mean that?"

"We've been best friends since pre-K. I've loved you one way or another since, like, forever."

"Good. I was starting to think there _was_ some honeysuckle lying around…"

_**Misery Business – Paramour**_

Carlos watched with a twinge of annoyance as a voluptuous blonde flirted with James by the snack bar, squishing her arms under her boobies to give herself cleavage.

_This is unbearable_, the Latino thought, his smooth brow furrowing with unexpected hatred. He hitched his pool towel higher on his muscled arm and walked down the paved poolside walk, the pool separating him and James. He choose a random beach chair and was about to sit down when someone called his name.

"Hey Carlos!"

Turning, he saw James waving at him franticly from across the pool. The blond turned to look as well, and now she was staring daggers at him. _Great._

James turned back to the blonde and said something disagreeable, because her face screwed itself up even more in disgust. James then bent down and grabbed his towel. As he tried to walk past the girl, she scribbled something on a napkin and tried to force it at him, but he pushed it back gently, murmuring something to her. She finally relented and sped off in a fury, purposefully pushing over a potted plant as she walked back into the lobby.

As James approached, Carlos let his eyes wander briefly over the brunette's washboard abs and prominent pecs, then glanced back down at his bottle of Gatorade. _Why does he have to look so good in swim trunks?_ Carlos' inner voice whined.

"Hey dude, what's up?" Carlos asked, making small talk and tossing a second bottle of Gatorade to the approaching brunette.

After last night, he wasn't exactly sure what James and he were anymore. As much as he hated the thought, he guessed they were the definition of 'friends with benefits'. He could still taste James on his lips, just a hint of mint and strawberries…

"Getting rid of bimbos. You?"

James flashed a smile that nearly made the Latino's heart stop. Carlos returned it, albeit not meaning to.

"'Bout to suck up some sun. Care to join me?"

"Sure." The tall teen spread out his towel on the chair next to Carlos'. He glanced up for a moment and seemed to scan the short teen across from him with his eyes.

"Wanna catch a bite later?" James asked suddenly, "Prying girls off makes a man hungry."

Carlos laughed steadily, though his insides were jumping around in a nervous bundle of excitement. "I hope you mean for food, because I doubt I could help you if you meant otherwise."

James leant back on the pool chair next to Carlos', watching the other teen's rump as Carlos bent over to straighten his towel.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that, Carlito…" he whispered.

_**Sing it Back – Moloko**_

"Look…Carlos…If you really don't feel the same, then just forget it. I never brought it up."

"No, James, I…" Carlos gulped back a groan of guilt, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down, "I would do anything for you, too…but, I don't know-"

"Don't say it if you don't mean it, dude."

The Latino rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed. "But I do! I don't know why it's so hard to say it when I mean it so much…"

James seemed unimpressed as he leant against the door jam.

Carlos starred at his hands. "I think it's because of my dad."

That surprised James. Carlos rarely talked about his dad. When he did, which was maybe _seven _times total in the entirety that they'd known each other, it was late at night when the moon was reaching its peak, and Carlos was wrapped in James' arms and they were talking about life or plans for the future. Heavy topics they only ever wanted to discuss with each other.

"What?"

"My dad. He used to say that sort of thing to me and _mi madre_ all the time. And then he…left. He always promised to be there, and then times got hard, he lost his job…" The small teen trailed off, staring out the window to his right.

Mr. Garcia's suicide was a topic that rarely saw the light of day. Carlos didn't like to talk about it for some obvious reasons. He felt it tarnished what people thought of the man he had known as a small boy. He also held a great hatred for what liquor had done to help his late father to his death. At parties and celebrity events, he never touched a drop of liquor. He once started a full out brawl with a random guy who'd tried to force some beer on him. Not that James had helped by jumping in, either, but still.

That was sure one night in Juvy James'd never forget.

"I was only nine," Carlos started to sob quietly.

James remembered it. The wake, the service, and the awkward little hug he'd given Carlos because he wasn't sure what else to do. James started to inch towards the small, hysterical teen.

"He just-he just…" Carlos gave another racking sob. "For what?" Carlos punched his pillow. "He always promised, and I'm just scared, so fucking scared…" His own tears cut him off.

James scooped Carlos up into his arms, holding him against him as he started to sob uncontrollably. James knew these tears were far overdue.

"Let it out, babe, I got you."

Carlos sobbed again. "I love you, James, I'm s-sorry-"

James held him tighter. "No, no, no, don't be sorry, please don't be sorry. I love you, too, Carlito…with all of my heart, all of it."

The Latino hiccupped. "Please, please, don't ever-" He hiccupped again.

"No, never ever. I will never leave you. God, never, Carlos…"

Carlos hiccupped once more, this time into the crock of James' neck. James started to speak, and Carlos echoed him.

"I love you."


	2. Waiting for the World to End

_**Waiting for the World to End – Linkin Park**_

James settled his shotgun on his knee, leaning against the wall and sliding down it, laughing softly in relief. He ran a hand over his stubbly chin and back through his dark brown mane.

"I cannot believe we made that."

Carlos looked over at him, smiling.

"No kidding."

Kendall knelt in front of Logan, who was propped against the wall.

"You toke a nasty hit."

Logan subtly poked his wound, a large gash in his left shoulder. "Nothing that can't be patched." He shrugged and then winced.

"Are you sure-" Kendall started to say, a look of slight disbelief evident on his face.

"If it was, I would have shot myself in the head already. You know that." Logan's voice was stern.

The room was quiet.

"Sorry." Kendall said in a low voice, realizing he'd stepped a line. "Let me help you."

The blonde teen helped Logan to his feet, and then escorted him to one of the back rooms. They talked in whispers the whole way, and Kendall gave Logan a soft kiss on the check. Once the door clicked behind them, Carlos sighed.

"They're like an old married couple."

"Technically, they are. Well, a couple, at least." James grinned, eliciting a smirk from the short teen.

"Who knew that of all things," Carlos started saying absently, rummaging through his canvas sack and retrieving their spoils for the day, "_zombies_ would make them fall in love."

Carlos rescued a carton of cookies from the recesses of his pouch.

"Lucy! We brought you something!" The Latino called into the rafters.

A small Indian girl padded down the wood steps of their base, running straight into Carlos' arms with a giant grin.

"Hi hun." He said, a soft smile creasing his face. He held up a cookie. "Want one?"

The girl nodded her little head, and James smiled at the sweet glow Carlos toke on when the girl toke the cookie and pecked him gently on the check. James estimated she was anywhere from eight to ten, with big brown eyes that matched Carlos' to a 'T' and long raven colored hair. They had found her, malnourished and mute, huddled under her bed a few blocks from the Palm Woods in a run down, immigrant based neighborhood, in the same room where a rotting corpse, presumably her father, was laying. They had taken her in, because, to be frank, she reminded them all a little of Katie.

When the outbreak had happened, they had lost Katie before they even realized what was happening, finding her dead in the apartment when the sirens had started going off. Kendall toke it depressingly hard, and he didn't talk for weeks after, just sat and brooded, or shot a zombie down on the street with his sniper rifle, all with no emotion. The only way he seemed to regain his self at all was through Logan, who had made sure he ate, slept, and showered when possible during the weeks following Katie's death and, when he finally cracked, stayed with him the whole time.

Ms. Knight hadn't been seen since the day of the outbreak (dubbed 'Z-Day'), and James had an achy feeling there was a slim chance they ever would again. Kendall seemed to be holding on to the fact they weren't sure yet if she _was_ dead and they never brought it up in case it made him snap. Killing zombies all the time seemed to put him at easy though, somehow.

As the girl nibbled on the oatmeal pastry, she climbed up into James' lap, curling into a ball. James distractedly stroked her hair, staring out a dusty, blood-crusted window. Carlos, standing in their seventeenth floor liberated apartment/ HQ, looked over the gorgeous boy on the couch. From his beautiful face to his toned shoulders, to the hint of abs through his cotton shirt and down to his strong looking legs, Carlos felt like he couldn't even breathe from the strange constriction in his chest. He gave a harsh sigh, forcing the noxious gases out of his lungs.

"You are so goddamn cute." Carlos whispered, turning to scowl into a cabinet.

"What?" James asked, shocked out of his reverie.

"With kids!" Carlos stammered, looking up with shock into the fiery brown irises across from him. "You're cute…with kids." He sputtered again lamely, scratching the back of his neck and then examining his muddy boots.

James gave a little, confused smirk. "Uh…huh."

"It's true!" The Latino squeaked, turning back to the food. James was trying to decide if he should laugh or stay silent as he looked at the tense set of his friend's shoulders. His eyes grazed precariously down his elegantly muscled back, settling for a long moment on his denim-clad arse, and then made a U-turn with his eyes and looked at his tawny arms.

During today's raid, Carlos had gotten cornered by a zombified couple, and they had almost done a bloody number on his left arm if James hadn't gone full on ninja and tackled both of them to the floor. Carlos had blown their heads to smithereens, but he'd given James a shaky hug and asked _him_ if he was alright. The tall teen was still baffled by this. It was a _silly_, even _comical_ thing to ask…but _undeniably sweet_. James realized those four words were perfect synonyms for the boy edgily putting their food stock into the cabinets.

God, he was too perfect.

"Wow." Lucy said flatly after an awkwardly long pause, her voice a soft whistle laced with sarcasm. "That was the worst lie I have ever had the misfortune of hearing."

Both boys sat in stunned silence, gaping at the girl.

"What?" She asked, shrugging her petite shoulders. "He didn't even try to play it off like he was talking about _me_."

James couldn't help giving a long hardy laugh.

"I swear to God, she's Katie incarnate." He said softly so only Carlos and the little girl could hear him.

Carlos nodded his head numbly. "If that ain't the truth."

..::;;::..

"_I wanna show you guys something…" James said, rummaging around in his jean's pocket._

"_Oh, is it a surprise?" Jo asked through the video phone, Camille peeking over the blonde's shoulder._

"_For him, yeah." He pulled out a black velvet box about the size of an IPod shuffle and clicked it open. He held it up in the desk lamp's light, cradled in the palms of both his hands._

"…_Oh my God, James." Camille said breathlessly, eyes wide in joy and shock._

"_It's…" Jo looked on the verge of tears. James hoped they were the happy kind. "Oh, James! He's going to love it!"_

"_You think?" The tall brunette asked with an uncertain smile, looking down at the contents of the box._

"_Hun." Camille said, her usual sass seeping into her voice, "He'd love it even if it was the top off a soda can, as long as it was coming from you."_

_James felt his checks blush a little._

"_You think he'll say yes?"_

_Jo's mouth fell open._

"_James. Seriously. Yes."_

"_He loves you more than anything. That's including corndogs, puppies, and that helmet of his." Camille concurred._

_Jo gave a grin. "He loves you more than Camille loves me."_

"_Not true!" Camille shrieked, scandalized._

_James didn't stop smiling for the rest of the night._

_And here we are three months later_, James thought as he buckled the small Indian girl into the backseat of their car, resting her sleeping head against the side of the chair. Even at the age of fourteen ('Going on fifteen' , she kept reminding them), she was still no taller than 5'1" and weighed in at only 81 pounds of healthy teenage girl. He gave her a secret smile as he shut the van quietly.

"CAR-los!" He called into the dainty two-story apartment complex behind him, looking up to the second level windows. The Latino in question stuck his head out the top window, staring down at James with a large grin.

"Lucy's ready to go." He smiled up at the boy above him.

"Alright. I'm almost ready." The head disappeared, and ten minutes later Carlos was trotting out of the building, a backpack and a medium sized box tucked under his arm. As he stuffed his treasures into the trunk and shut it silently, he noticed James staring into space.

"Jamie?"

The brunette started. "Yeah?"

Carlos frowned a little. "You alright."

James looked away, towards the sweet, idealistic picket fence surrounding the front of the building.

"Honestly? Not really."

Carlos walked around him slowly, clasping James' paler-by-comparison hands and making the tall teen look at him. James seemed to be slowly crumbling.

"I'm gonna miss her so much, Carlito." He whispered, his voice sounding strained with emotion. Carlos ran a thumb lightly over James' high checks in a comforting fashion.

"I'm going to miss her too, James. But her parent's…they deserve to have her back. She's not ours, Jamie, and as much as we love her or she might love us, she deserves to be with her real family. We'll still get to visit her every once and awhile."

Being completely honest was always the Latino's game plan when it came to comforting James. The teen seemed to work out his own feelings better when they were rationalized to him by someone else.

James sniffled. "Yeah, I know. I just…you know." He finished lamely, laughing a little as he wiped at a tear.

Carlos gave a little sad smile. "Common, you big lug. We're gonna be late."

James shook his head in agreement, moving away to get in the driver's side. They pulled off of the side of the street, heading down the quaint little street, passing random pedestrians as they went about life. After the initial first weeks of the plague, things had started to cool down again and survivors, a lot more than originally thought, began grouping together and driving back the hordes, resulting in whole blocks being retaken and cities slowly being purged. Four and a half years later, there was still a great deal of damage and cleanup to do, but more than three fourths of the zombie threat had been quelled or eliminated. The exception was the more rural areas, but even now, those were being cleaned out.

Kendall and Logan had taken up residence on the outskirts of the Big Apple, living in sweet solitude with the hint of city life they craved. Jo and Camille had taken up board together in the heart of St. Louis, finding there was nothing really left for them in California as show business was the last thing on anyone's mind and that the Midwest hadn't been hit as hard as the outer states. Whether they were a couple or simply good friends was still a mystery, but it is said that misery enjoys company, and there was plenty of misery to go around when they found out about Logan and Kendall.

Lucy had nowhere to go, and since Carlos and James had become particularly fond of her, they toke her in as their own sort of 'overly-protected sister', both playing the 'over-protective older brothers' role to a 'T'.

That was minus the fact that none of them were blood related and that the two 'over-protective older brothers' were in love with each other, but it ran pretty smoothly all on its own. Lucy knew about their relationship, though it was never spoken about, and to friends, it was nonexistent.

Kendall and the others were uncharacteristically suspect of them, though. Every year, when they gathered back in California for a week to catch up, Jo always asked the same question: "So, when's the wedding?"

And James would always say, with a baffled grin, "What wedding?"

And Camille and Kendall would snicker as Logan said, "Come off it, you two. There's something going on, don't shit us."

Carlos, every time, would look at James with an exceptionally blank look, like 'I'll-follow-your-lead', and James would always answer:

"Damn, you guys, common. Two guys can live in one house and not be gay."

And afterward, every time, he'd push Carlos' against the wall of their hotel and whisper huskily in his ear, "I'll make a true man out of you someday, I swear."

And Carlos would always smile and kiss his nose or his ear or his neck, and whisper back, "I know."

As they pulled up in front of the gray-scale building, James thought about all of this, and how far every one of them had come, and he smiled without reservations. Before he followed Carlos' suite and got out of their 2009 Mazda 5, he felt around inside his Prada suit pocket and smiled as his middle finger came into contact with a velvet-covered box.

He stepped onto the pavement and opened the door to the backseat, making sure Carlos was occupied, which he was, fiddling around with his new IPhone.

"Luc?" James asked, poking the girl in the shoulder and then patting her check softly. "Hey, Luc, wake up. We're here."

Lucy opened her brown eyes a crack and gurgled a growl of agitation. James felt a pain in his chest. He was gonna miss this every morning, though it was usually followed by a snide remark about his hair or something else silly.

Instead, the girl brushed the pads of her hands down the back of her head and asked, "What time is it?"-then, randomly, as she glanced around wildly at her torso- "Am I still in my church stuff?"

"No, your butt naked." James said sarcastically. "Of course you're still in your church stuff. Common, we're gonna be late."

"Oh, but I wanted to wear my pink spring dress, not my black pants and blue blouse!"

James snickered with a kind, understanding smile. "Too bad, princess."

She huffed and got out of the car prettily, shutting the door with a timid _bam_.

"Luc, quick." He said suddenly, sliding a small black velvet box into her petite hand and whispering something into her ear. She smiled, a small tear appearing in her eye, and she threw her arms soundlessly around his neck in a bear hug before making her way silently up to Carlos.

"Yo, Carly. Jamie told me to give this to you." She said nonchalantly as if she wasn't about to make his day, holding out the small box. Lucy tapped her chin thoughtfully with the other hand. "He told me to tell you something, too, now what was it…"

Carlos toke the box as Lucy seemed to think it over, running a thumb over the velvety surface. He stuck a thumb in the seam going around the outside, and as he began to lift the cover, Lucy snapped her fingers in mock remembrance, saying, "Oh! That's right! He told me to ask you if you'd marry him! That's right, now I remember…"

The box snapped open right at the end of her sentence, revealing a beautiful silver band with a cushion cut piece of turquoise embellishing the center setting. James watched as Carlos covered his gapping mouth with his hand, the other clutching painfully tight to the little velvet box. Inching ever closer to the emotionally consumed man, James reached out a hand.

"Carlos?" he asked with a small, hopeful smile. He toke the hand away from the Latino's face, noticing he was shaking like an autumn leaf.

"Oh God, YES!" Carlos breathed, tears tucking over the sides of his face as he touched his forehead to the taller man's almost forcefully. "Yes, yes, yes. Oh, James, yes, I will."

They had their first PDA right there in the middle of the Social Services parking lot as their 'sister from another mister' looked on with a sweet, knowing smile. They got married the following year, during one of those random times when the government realizes gay marriage is beautiful and right. Lucy was in attendance as maid-of-honor, and there were two best men, respectfully: Kendall and Logan. Camille sobbed like those biddies in the soaps, and Jo didn't stop smiling that damned 'I-told-you-so' smile the whole ceremony. Everyone in attendance agreed afterward it was an exceptionally beautiful wedding, and Luc introduced her mother and her two younger brothers to the grooms during the reception. Jo and Camille conceded later, in their joint toast to the grooms, that the only thing that could have made it better was if they'd hung soda can tops everywhere. Carlos turned to James and said almost whimsically, "You know, if you had given Lucy a soda can top and told her to give it to me as an engagement ring, I still would have said yes."

James started crying for the second time that day.


	3. Little Lion Man

_**Little Lion Man – Mumford and Sons**_

"Awfully brave thing you pulled, sir."

"I wasn't really thinking of my safety, in all honesty."

"Kinda obvious, if I can be so blunt."

The cop licked his thumb and pulled back another sheet of paper on his notepad.

"And you still can't place a face?"

Carlos shook his head. "N'aww, I just remember him being a larger dude, definitely bigger than me."

The lieutenant scratched his morning shadow. His radio gave a little murmur broken by static, and he turned the knob to quiet it.

"I think that's all the official questions I have." Lieutenant Patters set the pad down. "How are you doing?"

"Unofficially?" Carlos asked weakly with a smirk.

The cop smiled. "Unofficially."

Carlos sighed.

"Hospital food sucks."

The officer barked with laughter. "It sure does, doesn't it? I've had my own share of bullets; I know what it's like."

Carlos watched as the cop stood up, collecting his papers.

"Well, I should be heading back to HQ. You get better now, kid." The old lieutenant ruffled the Latino's hair as he walked out.

"Bye."

At the limber age of twenty-one, Carlos felt undeniably aged by the events of the past week. His rough goatee grown out a little, spiky raven black hair falling limp on his forehead, and his usually lopsided smirk a tad lackluster, he was sure he looked the picture of "victim". It was depressing and worthwhile all at the same time. Worthwhile because the man he saved was now standing at his hospital door.

"Hey Carlitos," James said softly. "You're looking good."

Carlos grinned at him wholeheartedly. "Jamez!"

James had only gotten handsomer with age: he'd cut his hair shorter than back in the Big Time Rush days, wearing it stylishly gelled back. He'd started wearing glasses when he found that they worked just as well as contacts, yet made you look super sexy (which they did), and he'd probably grown another two inches. He played appealing rich playboy to a 'T'. Not only had he gotten more good looking, but he'd actually become a successful business man with the brains and charm to have half of California's corporations under his thumb. Though the whole gang, including Jo and Camille, stayed in close contact, Carlos and James had _always_ stayed particularly close, and Carlos felt privileged to be James' one and only business partner; _Diamond and Garcia_. They worked well together; no one could deny that.

The tall brunette now grinned as he walked to Carlos' side, stooping over by his knees to rest his elbows on the bedding. The Latino turned so he could see him better around the tube in his nose. They stayed like that for at least three minutes, comfortably smiling at the other.

"How are you?" James finally asked in a low voice.

"Better. And you?"

James gave an almost unbelieving laugh. "I'm doing just fine, bud."

He pulled a plastic covered stool next to the bed and sat down. His lips quirked a little.

"Besides, you're the one who toke a literal bullet. I didn't get anything more than a couple scratches from the whole thing."

James brow kneaded then, and he looked down at his hands knitted together in his lap.

"Carlos, we need to address the elephant in the room. Why _did _you jump in front of me?" James asked, looking straight into the Latino's dark brown eyes. He tapped Carlos' stiff mattress. "I should be lying here, in this hospital bed. We both know that."

There was a pause, and Carlos almost had the urge to kiss James and just get it out of the way already. Another minute ticked by, and James got up and walked to the window, looking down at the far below pavement.

"But I'm not, am I?" James turned around finally, looking lost. "Why? Why did you do it? You're just as important to _Diamond and Garcia _as I am. Goddamn, Carlos, you're half of the freaking name!" He rubbed a hand under his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What is there to _not_ understand?" Carlos said morosely, narrowing his eyes as much as the tubes would permit. "You're my _best friend_. End of story."

"But, Carlos…you stopped a bullet from potentially killing me!" James said almost angrily, stomping back to the side of the bed. "People, even best friends, just don't do that." James ran a hand through his hair, his laugh lines soft creases in his face. Carlos couldn't help thinking he'd be an extremely handsome older man someday.

"Fathers do that for children, husbands do that for wives…" James continued offhandedly. "I mean, seriously. Only people who really care about someone, people who are wholeheartedly, unabashedly in…love…"

James let the word die out on his tongue in a whisper. A revelation seemed to come over him as he looked at Carlos in shock. The Latino hung his head, staring hard at the hem of his hospital gown, like maybe he could divine hidden mysteries from the odd minty green patterns.

"I-I need to think." James said suddenly, getting up from the stool again and making quick, rapid steps towards the door.

Carlos called brokenly after him, just as the young man was about to shut the door-

"What is there to think about when it comes to love, James!"

The Latino heard the door click after a moment, and he buried his face in his hands. A long silence consumed the room.

"Nothing, I guess."

Carlos looked up to see James standing at the foot of his bed, regarding him steadily. Another long pause consumed the room, the stillness almost maddening, as the two business men studied each other. Carlos broke the silence.

"I'd ask what you want to do next, but frankly I'm scared of the answer."

"I'm really not sure, Carlos…" James seemed to age at least five years. "I won't sit here and deny I've never had feelings for you, but I'm happily engaged to a very respectable woman. I can't just drop Jillian like some pimped-out skank."

Carlos, in all honesty, was at a loss of words. Not only had James just admitted that he'd, at some point in time, had feelings for Carlos, but he'd also just called his wife-to-be a "pimped-out skank", even if he was defending her. Carlos almost snickered.

"I would never tell you to do that. I like Jill fairly alright, she's never done me any wrong besides catching your eye, I guess."

Carlos swallowed and dug deep for the courage to say what he had to next.

"Just forget we ever had this conversation, James. The last thing we need is my feelings getting mixed in with our business."

James nodded slowly. "Yeah. You're right, as usual, Carlos." He scratched his neck, then locked onto Carlos' eyes. "Thank you, though. At least for letting me know how you feel."

James gave a small smile, and Carlos felt his lips twitching up, too. Jill certainly had a great catch.

..::;;::..

Let it never be said Carlos Roberto Enrique Garcia, Jr. could not act, the Latino thought as he walked down Fifth Avenue, sipping his latte as he made his way to work.

For the past seven months, he'd played dashing but intimidating business associate at the office, steady partner-in-crime to James, and supportive best man at the wedding, all in the sake of acting like nothing had changed.

Now, five months after the ceremony, the two lovebirds were already having problems. Jillian had turned out to be an OCB(Obsessive Compulsive Bitch) about just about everything, from the channels James liked to watch to what social events she 'allowed' them to attend. After James stint at the bar last week, which Carlos had played a very happy role in, Jill had nonstop raved about a divorce being in the 'immanent future', and James had told him this morning over the phone, quite nonchalant, that she was filing for it today. Not only that, but James had asked him to meet him at the corner of Fifth and Broadway this morning at eight o'clock on the dot.

As he reached the busy corner right across from their own business, Carlos could make out the familiar outline of his best friend, wrapped snuggly in a knee length wool jacket and khaki slacks.

"James." He called over the throng of voices. The man turned around and smiled at Carlos, one side of his smile seeming droopier than the other. As the Latino man got closer, he saw why. A large welt consumed much of the brunette's left check, the red tint it had taken on hiding behind the cold flush of James' checks.

"Carlos." James said, greeting him.

"Café?" Carlos asked, holding out a black coffee in a Starbucks cup.

"Gracias."

James toke a long swig of the scalding liquid. His shirt looked wrinkled and his tie was askew, and the tanned man surmised it was probably because James had to sleep on the couch the night before; following whatever travesty had taken place beforehand that had caused the mark on James sturdy face. Carlos reached out an attentive hand and slowly undid and redid the knot of the tie, then patted the tie back into place and pinned it with the gold tie clip Carlos had given James for his twentieth birthday. The Latino felt a twinge of sorrow. Perhaps my courage isn't as strong as I once thought, he pondered as he pulled away.

The kiss that resulted after this idea was a completely and utterly unexpected event. It was a simple brush of James' lips against Carlos; nothing particularly romantic or sentimental about it. There was no warning or modest hesitation, and Carlos almost thought he was imagining it had happened.

But he didn't, because there was a fire that leapt between them during the kiss; an instant snap of something inside Carlos, which made the kiss feel like James had almost mauled half his face off. He looked dazedly at his friend, who was now looking the other way and taking a large swig of coffee in a hurried chugging motion. The tall man wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, a certain trait even corporate regality had never beat out of him.

"I had to do that. Just once."

James turned to look at him, something unreadable in his eyes. "I think you should also know that Jill wasn't the one who filed for the divorce."

Carlos couldn't even let his jaw drop, that's how frozen he was in utter and unabashed shock. James didn't stop there, though; he just kept plowing ahead like he was afraid he might not have the strength to start up again if he even took a breath.

"You had me wrecked, Carlos. _A complete disaster_. I came and visited you while you were out, and I cried like I've never cried before, sobbing and blubbering, and the nurses actually let me stay a whole thirty minutes longer than visitor's hour just cause I was that upset. All because I was so depressingly scared you were going to leave, and I'd be all alone. No Kendall, no Logan, not even maybe Camille or Jo. You and your beautiful eyes and your addictive laugh and your infectious smile and amazing _everything_, just gone, God, I can't stand the thought-"

Carlos decided, between the moment he fisted his hands in James' already wrinkled shirt collar to the instant he smashed their lips together in a concussion-worthy kiss, that James didn't have to stand the thought any longer. Because Carlos is there, with James, in that moment, and the Latino realized that's all his life is, really; bits and pieces and moments with James, and he can't even remember when he started living his life by, well…_James_. He realized he can't even remember a time before James, who he's known since the ripe age of seven; a year of fistfights and adventure and brotherhood.

It's funny how those things happen.

Then James was kissing back, fervent and hesitant all at once, and Carlos realized why his world revolved around the man in front of him. James was nothing and everything, such a beautiful catastrophic contradiction, while Carlos had to have it black or white; there wasn't room for gray. James was his opposite in such ways Carlos felt right then like he was kissing a stranger he'd known his whole life: jumbled and lightheaded and on edge. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever experienced, such fire and ice and _burning desire _in something so rushed as a kiss.

He absolutely loved it.

_(Sorry, this actually turned out a lot shorter and not as good as I had thought, but since you all love these so much, or so it seems, I'll be adding another chapter after this of shorter song shorties. C: I hope you liked, KISSES! RforRebel )_


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